


Greasy Kisses

by JamtheDingus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pizza, SpoilShiro2k18, midnight snack, reposted from tumblr, shiro can't cook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:41:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: “Come to my office.”His office was, of course, the kitchen. Where all of Shiro’s culinary dreams came true— including some he didn’t even know existed. He had a peculiar feeling that pizza from scratch was going to be added to that list soon, too.“Since we’re making this for the first time, I’m going all out.” Hunk warned. “And you’re gonna help me.”Shiro grimaced. “I’ll try?”---Hunk teaches Shiro how to make a pizza. At midnight.





	Greasy Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> >:3c i figured I'd post it here (like twenty years later) bc shunk content is rare on ao3
> 
> prompt: 
> 
> Shunk - Hunk helping to teach Shiro that he can handmake pizza. Anytime he wants, even! (Modern AU or canon are both good) (Welcome back!!! I'm glad to see you getting back into the swing :D )

Shiro is lying face-down in a pile of fluffy pillows, half-dozing as he listens to Hunk try and fail to beat the final boss of the video game he’d borrowed from Lance, when the hunger strikes him like lightning to a metal pole.

He rolls off of his mini-mountain and watches as Hunk succeeds in taking the enemy down to a sliver of health, only to be finished off by a cloud of poison he’d accidentally ran into.

It takes everything in Hunk not to hurl the controller at the television. Instead he throws it at the couch where it’ll be much more likely to survive, and swears vehemently under his breath, “Cracker jack.”

Shiro reaches over to tickle him on the back of his neck. “Take a break. Let’s find something to eat.”

Hunk does the expected motion of trying to recede into himself like a turtle, complete with a cut-off gurgle at the sudden tickle. Shiro ducks out of the way as Hunk swings at him with a pillow, grinning wide when Hunk can’t stop himself from giggling.

“Yeah, okay. I was getting hungry anyway, too.” Hunk stands up, stretching his arms until they pleasantly crack. “How about pizza?”

Shiro reaches for his phone, which had decided to hide itself in the couch cushions, and quickly checks his notifications. “It’s almost three in the morning, so most places nearby are closed. I might have a frozen one somewhere?”

Hunk plucks the phone out of Shiro’s hand and tuts at him. “Young, naive Shiro. You don’t even know who you’re talking to. Rooming with Lance in college made me a _master_ of past-midnight pizzas.”

Shiro furrowed his brow, quickly stealing back his phone with nothing but a distracting kiss against Hunk’s cheek and a firm squeeze. “I… honestly wasn’t aware it was an option.”

“Come to my office.”

His office was, of course, the kitchen. Where all of Shiro’s culinary dreams came true— including some he didn’t even know existed. He had a peculiar feeling that pizza from scratch was going to be added to that list soon, too.

“Since we’re making this for the first time, I’m going all out.” Hunk warned. “And you’re gonna help me.”

Shiro grimaced. “I’ll try?”

Hunk only slid him a bowl, with a determined look in his eye.

Because Hunk loved to cook, they had most of the ingredients for a quick pizza already— so Hunk decided to treat him to pineapple and sausage pizza. “We don’t have any classic pepperoni, so we’ll just have to make do.” He’d said, kneading the dough after Shiro’s disastrous attempt wherein his prosthetic did _not_ agree with how sticky it was.

“Pidge would be horrified.” Shiro hummed, carefully slicing open said pineapple. “She _hates_ how much you like pineapple pizza.”

Hunk exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. “She’ll see the light one of these days. We’ll have to invite her over the next time we do this.”

“If I don’t blow up the house first.” Shiro hums, narrowly missing his finger with the knife. From then on, he pays extra attention to how slippery stupid pineapples are when you try holding onto them with your bare hands.

It comes as an incredible surprise to Shiro that things don’t go sideways during the few hours in the kitchen. Hunk ends up with mozzarella-stained hair after Shiro cracks open the bag too hard, but that’s not even the worst thing he’d been covered in after inviting Shiro into the kitchen, so it’s a win for the latter.

“Now sprinkle however many toppings you want on your half, and I’ll do mine in a minute.” He’s instructed as Hunk turns away to make sure the oven is preheated, and to clean up the mess a little.

The sausage was already in chunks so he didn’t worry about the size too much as he eyeballed a good handful or three to lay on top of the thick layer of cheese they’d slapped on the dough.

When Hunk turned around again, Shiro had just finished what looked like an entire wall of meat.

Hunk had to take a moment to comprehend what he was looking at. “Shiro… why?”

“What? What’s wrong with it?”

Hunk hid his smile behind his hand at Shiro’s sincere confusion. “That’s _way_ too much sausage. Like… Enough for two pizzas, too much.”

Shiro frowned (read: pouted) and looked back at his little hill. “I thought it was supposed to… shrink.” He mashed his fingers together in demonstration. “Isn’t that what food does when it cooks?”

“Only sometimes.” Hunk assured, cutting between Shiro and the pizza before he put the entire pineapple on it. “Your heart was in the right place, but your stomach may literally murder you for feeding it a pound of sausage per slice.”

Shiro didn’t hesitate in handing Hunk the reigns for the rest of the baking process after that, though he _did_ get handfed a bit of the removed sausage while they waited for the treat to finish cooking.

So, again, it was a win for him.

 

\---

 

The pizza came out marvelously perfect, if you asked Shiro. The crust was crispy on the edge but soft where it mattered, and it _wasn’t_ drowned in sausage and oil.

Hunk gave him a beaming grin as he took his first bite and couldn’t stop the moan that escaped him. “Tasty, right? A good time killer _and_ midnight snack.”

“More like breakfast.” Shiro says with a motion of his head towards the oven clock that’s nearing five in the morning.

Hunk shrugs, helping himself to another mouthful. Shiro slides his hand across the table, almost casual-like if not for the meaningful look he shoots Hunk’s way. “Thanks for making it.”

Hunk quickly wipes his greasy fingers on his hoodie and eagerly slots them between his boyfriend’s. “Of course, Shiro. And now you can make it whenever you want.”

He receives a dubious look at that, which he responds to with an encouraging smile. When Shiro’s gaze only withers like a sunflower in December the longer their staring contest goes on, Hunk fondly sighs. “I’ll help, too. Whenever you want.”

Shiro leans across the table to give him a kiss. “Thanks, babe. I’ll try not to get too crazy.”

Does Hunk spoil him a little too much? Probably— but Shiro deserves it.

Hunk responds by stealing a few of his pineapples and popping them in his mouth before they can get stolen back. “I’ll hold you to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> this definitely didnt get checked over for errors. straight from tumblr to the press.
> 
> feel free to poke me if you see something wrong! hope you enjoyed <3


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